UNCLE GEORGE – MISSIONARY BUSH PILOT C 2010 JOJO

My Uncle George was the youngest of 6 children – Mum was the eldest – and he later became a missionary bush pilot in Brazil. He flew a 4 seater Stinson, and became very adept at landing on impossibly small tracks of land. He flew missionaries into the Brazilian hinterlands, as well as doctors, nurses, medical and other supplies. He flew sick people from remote areas to city hospitals.

He’s 93 years old today, and sadly has Alzheimer’s. But in his day he was a daredevil and full of naughtiness. When we lived in Morro Velho (gold mining community) Uncle would fly over the house so low, all the birds flew out of the trees. He’d stick his left arm out of the window, and we could almost see the time on his wrist watch.

He had a pre arranged signal with us – if we waggled his wings after speeding by it meant he’d be coming in from Belo Horizonte for a visit, but if he didn’t, he was just passing by and zoomed over to say “Hi” Uncle George style. So every time he skimmed the tree tops of our garden, eyes would be anxiously watching, hoping he’d waggle his wings.

He was also an adventurer. He loved nothing more than exploring unknown regions. It was on one of these impromptu sortees along the north eastern coastline, that he beheld something which totally mesmerized him – a gigantic waterfall, much higher than any other in Brazil. He always took a camera with him, so he zoomed around this waterfall, taking photographs and noted its position on the map.

When he got back to civilization, he developed his film and send photographs of his find to the Brazilian Geological Society, who sent a party in to investigate it. They subsequently declared these Falls had never been heard of or known before, and they were promptly named for him – The Glass Falls.

The reason these Falls hadn’t been observed before was firstly because of their remote location, and secondly, because they were strictly seasonal Falls that only existed during the rainy months, but dried up for the rest of the year. As such, they couldn’t officially be called the highest Falls in Brazil, which was a bit of a shame.

Uncle visited the villages near these Falls and found to his amazement, that the villagers were inordinately proud of the fact that it was located in their vicinity. He was amused to find that many of them had named their kids “Glass” in honour of the Falls!

My very first airplane ride was in Uncle George’s four seater. Mum, sister Doreen and I went into Belo Horizonte by bus, and then onto the airfield where his plane lay in a hanger. Uncle George proudly showed it off to us, pointing out features of his beloved aircraft that were of no interest to us, because we didn’t understand what they were! After this, we all climbed into the airplane, and he took off. Mum sat in the front next to Uncle George, Doreen and I in the back seats.

Once we were airborne, Uncle George did something I still find hard to forgive him for – he started showing off by doing stunts – rolling the plane, looping the loop, then barrelling down towards the earth at full speed, pulling out at the last minute. Doubtless he thought it was really funny, but I was so terrified, I tried climbing over the back seat onto Mum,in an attempt to get out of the plane. To this day, I hate flying, and I’m sure he is responsible for it.

Some time ago, he sent me the following exerpt he’d written about one of his adventures:

‘Did you know that one day I had just taken off from a small clearing where
the plane had been overnight in the bush near Rio Verde, Goias, when a large
snake came out from under the back seat and started to stroll around between
the legs of the passengers. Fortunately they all froze, me also as I was
afraid of startling it by using the pedals in order to go back and land
again.

Later, as compensation I had a really good laugh as I’ve never seen such a
rapid disembarkation. The plane looked as though it was exploding!

On another occasion, I felt the thud when the plane hit a partridge as we
were taking off. When we landed and I went to examine the engine, I was very
impressed and moved to see, stuck to the front cylinder, a tiny heart, pure
and in perfect shape and condition, just that and nothing more. It looked
like the macabre gift of an innocent little creature who only wanted to fly,
just as I did, but failed.”

Quite a character my Uncle George. I wish I had asked him for more of his stories before his mind began to fail.

I wonder what became of that snake?